By the Scruff of the Neck
By
Theresa Chaze

Soon after the new neighbors moved in a black cat appeared on my door step. At the time she was less than a year old and one of many the woman across the street was responsible for. None of her cats were altered and she took no care in preventing litters. The household was in chaos most of the time and the police were frequently called to break up fights between her and her live-in boyfriend. Her children and her cats wandered around the subdivision unsupervised. Abby as I came to call her was sweet and cuddly. It wasn’t long before she was spending more time on my porch than across the street. At the time I already had four and I didn’t feel financially comfortable adopting another. In addition, the situation across the street was so volatile, I didn’t know what the woman would do if I did adopt her. Michigan winters are not known for being mild and that winter was partially cold. I would come home at night to find her curled up on my front porch even though it was below zero. I built her a shelter and continued to provide food for her. That winter Pooky, my eldest died at the age of 19.


The next May, Abby bore two kittens under my back porch. By the time I had found them their eyes were open and they were just becoming mobile. However, Abby’s milk had begun to dry up, because she wasn’t getting enough nutrition to care for them. Immediately I made sure she got more food and fenced in a corner of my basement so I could have a safe place to put them. The next day I brought all three inside. The kittens were named Sissy and Sinbad. They were identical, so I color coded them with collars. My three weren’t exactly pleased, more so because Abby’s maternal instinct made her uncharacteristically aggressive. Whenever my others approached the fence, she would puff up and charge it. She frightened Thor so badly he refused to go downstairs and I had to bring one of the litter boxes upstairs for him.

As the kittens grew and became more independent, Abby relaxed and returned to her cuddly self. Eventually they were allowed the full run of the house. Sissy was always the more adventurous one. She made her place upstairs and won over Thor in a matter of days. Sinbad was more shy and reserved; he preferred to stay downstairs with Abby. However, Abby had many issues. Sudden movements and loud noises frightened her, which made me believe she had been abused. The sounds of big trucks sent her into hysterics. But her major problem was being afraid of loosing her home. She didn’t understand why she suddenly was abandoned. Eventually she made her way upstairs, however Thor had a long memory and held a grudge. The two of them would frequently squabble, but they were evenly matched. As long as Abby didn’t back down and run, Thor would hiss, but wouldn’t do anything. The balance of power changed when Abby went to the vet to be spayed. The car ride and the over night vet visit revived all her old issues. The fear of loosing her home became so great that she no longer fought back. Thor started teasing and chasing her until she no longer came upstairs. Instead she would hide under the downstairs sofa or in the back corner under the stairs. She would only come out to use the litter box and to eat. When she did come out she would slink around the lower level, doing her best not to be noticed.

I gave her a few weeks to reestablish her sense of security. After a month, she wasn’t getting any better and her fear was spreading to Sinbad. I decided to intervene by forcibly bringing her upstairs. I set up my office with food and a litter box. When I was home to door would remain open; however, when I left the house I closed the door to prevent any unsupervised encounters between them. It worked for a while. Slowly Abby started exploring the upstairs on her own. She was always searching for Thor. When she would see him, she would run to the safety of the office or back downstairs. It was a continuing cycle. She would run; Thor would chase her. Several times he bit her in the tail. Once so badly, I considered taking her to the vet. After which, she refused to come back upstairs.

I changed my tactic. Instead of putting food and water downstairs for Abby, I fed Thor behind the closed door of my bedroom and chased Abby upstairs. After a couple of weeks, Abby started coming up on her own. She would always run back downstairs when I let Thor out. She’d run and he would chase her. Whenever possible, I would intervene, but they are much quicker than I am. Eventually, the two started establishing a peace between them. But it only happened because Abby started standing up to him again. Instead of running she would curl up and hiss back. Thor did nothing to her. Once she realized he was using her own fear against her, she stopped running. She hit him in the head a couple of times and he started leaving her alone. The more time she spent upstairs, the less attention Thor gave her. It took over a year of running through the alphabet of new plans, yelling and forcing Abby out from under the stairs, but today all eight of my fur-kids are now eating peacefully in the kitchen. Abby sleeps on the living room couch--or wherever else she wishes. Large trucks still make her nervous, but just long enough for her look out the window to see where they are. She has regained her sense of home and trust. Quick movements and strangers make her wary, but she is also working through that.

How often does each of us give into our fears, only to find that when we turn and stand up to them, they are never as big and bad as we thought? Abby ran and hid; her fears took all her time and energy. Using a combination of love, cajoling, bribery and physical force I pushed Abby to work through her fears. When I grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and required her to go upstairs it might have seemed cruel, especially when Thor bit her in the tail. However by forcing her to face her fears, she was able to over come them. By hiding under the stairs, she found a temporary sense of sanctuary, but it was false security. By running she gave her fears and Thor more power over her; by standing up and facing them she took back control over her life.

The Goddess does the same to all of us. She puts us in situations where we must face our challenges head on. When we attempt to hide from them she is quite capable of grabbing us by the scruff of the neck and dragging us back to face the lesson. No matter how much energy we waste running and hiding, she will always find us and require us to face our fears. As I did my best to help Abby heal, so will the Goddess give support and send help-mates, but it up to the individual to do the hard work. No one else can do it for us. Others can be supportive and offer options, yet it is our choice to accept the blessings or to continue to hide under the stairs. We can either spend the energy healing or waste it hiding. By ignoring the lessons, we can not make them go away. They may have a different face or be in a different place, but they will always reappear to confront you when you least expect it. Yet by facing them, you empower yourself and conquer that which you fear the most.